Between a Jacket and a Sheriff's Badge
by WickedSong
Summary: 'She can't let the dorky sheriff with the out of place accent go in her mind. If she gets rid of the jacket now, she may as well rid herself of the badge she fought so hard to protect. And if she loses that, she loses him forever somehow.' A deeper look into Emma's thoughts post-1x07.


**Between a Jacket and a Sheriff's Badge,**

**Written by WickedSong.**

**Disclaimer/Note : I do not by any means own OUAT, I only want to write fic about it. I don't know if I'll write anything more for this wonderful t.v. series beyond this but this a drabble-ish take on Emma's feelings after Graham's death because I am kind of certain they are twu wuv (if you read that like the priest from The Princess Bride you are awesome). Anyway, if you read, please review.**

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She feels that the badge should be enough, it's a strong connection to Graham and one of the few things she has left of him. Her determination to be elected Sheriff was built in order to give Henry some belief in good always winning, to keep his hope in fairytales alive but it was only solidified by the constant reminder of Graham, somewhere out there, heaven, the afterlife, whatever you wanted to believe came after life ended - personally she hoped he was smiling down on her in heaven, though she'd never tell a soul that much - and the legacy that she wanted to preserve - for him.

He was a man who gave his entire being to the task of making Storybrooke safe and nobody had a bad word to say about him. He was a kind man, a good man, someone you could rely on - whether it be for help in solving a mystery around the town or just a dorky comment to lift spirits.

She feels as if seeing anyone around town wearing the badge that he wore so proudly and with such dilligence would bring back all the feelings of hopelessness, despair and sadness she hadn't relived since the night he collapsed and died instantly in her arms. It was easier for her to wear it. If she wore it she'd never have to see it, unless she happened to catch herself in the mirror. If she wore it it meant that in some small way he would always be with her, close to her heart and the small part of her that still believed in fairytales - but never in a real life capicity like Henry so whole heartedly believed - would wish that somehow he was watching over and guiding her.

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It takes her two tries at throwing out that leather jacket from the sheriff's office that she realises that perhaps the badge isn't the only thing that keeps him around.

The first time is just after Mr. Gold leaves the station after the election. She takes the jacket off the hook, walks out of and to the back of the building before opening the bin and throwing it in. She told Mr. Gold she didn't want nor need a memento of the former sheriff. Any reminder that he ever existed was nothing more than a bad thing - something which continued to batter against the walls Mary Margaret insisted she put up to defend herself.

She gets through no more than half of a file before she sighs deeply and reluctantly pushes back on her table, standing from her chair and retrieving the jacket from outside, taking it home with her and quickly washing and drying it before Mary Margaret can be any the wiser. It's back in the office, on its hook within the hour and it's like she never tried to rid herself of it at all.

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The second - and last - time is much like the first. Only this time she forgets her own jacket and it's freezing while she's reading over reports. She's really cold and in a last resort takes the jacket off the hook and puts it on. It's been nearly two months since his death and her election as sheriff and yet it still smells of him somehow. It's a scent she's never going to forget.

She wakes up the next morning to see Henry and Mary Margaret smiling down at her. Henry has his book in his hands while Mary Margaret is rubbing her shoulder sympathetically. She wonders why the short-haired schoolteacher is looking at her with such a look and then realises she fell asleep at her desk - wearing Graham's old jacket.

She at the bin before she can think rationally. But she can't do it. She's said goodbye to him, she's moved on with her life, with trying to protect the office which became his the minute he stopped taking orders from Regina - no matter how short a time period that was, and getting to know Henry and building friendships with the townspeople. She has roots now, roots which with his offer of deputy he allowed her to plant and which have flourished.

But maybe that's a part of him that she can't say goodbye to. She can't let the dorky sheriff with the out of place accent go in her mind. If she gets rid of the jacket now, she may as well rid herself of the badge she fought so hard to protect. And if she loses that, she loses him forever somehow. It's all very complicated in the recesses of her mind and yet makes perfect sense.

She may never talk about him, his name may never come up but he is still very much a present part of her thoughts.

_What if…_

Living in the past and the what if is no way to go about her life now in Storybrooke so she does keep the jacket - and the badge - and they are both the reminders of the short yet never forgotten time she had him with her.

Mary Margaret ushers her back inside and hands her back her own trademark red jacket which Emma gratefully accepts before hanging the dark leather one in its rightful place, on the hook beside the door. She takes the sheriff badge from the desk, places it on her person and then leaves with her roommate and son but not without one last look at the jacket, a mantra forming as she repeats it in her head over and over again.

_Never forget, never forget, never forget._

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**Thoughts, feelings, good or bad please review! Thank you very much if you've read thus far and well, that's all I can say really, haha!**


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